The Way We Got Here
by accioroonilwazlib
Summary: Series of Romione centric one-shots where characters reflect on their lives and relationships, and the memories that have helped shape them. Mostly fluff! May turn into a continuous story down the line.
1. I

Ron walked stooping low. His shoulders hung heavy and the dittany still stung. Just this once he'd wished he was lying comfortably in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, letting Madam Pomfrey take care of everything. Oh how he missed it. If he could re-do everything all over he'd re-do Hogwarts. He'd really think about what he wanted to do with his life…at this particular moment he wanted to be a Healer at St. Mungo's. "Stupid bloody Aurors" he muttered. Why had he become an Auror? _To be with Harry most likely_. He thought. He roamed the small house and the floor boards creaked. He promised himself that he would have better than this. To not be stuck in a little house, so cramped, much like the one he was so accustomed to. He was 26 now, and he still hadn't become anything to raise the status of the Weasley name…just a bloody Auror that followed the Great Harry Potter around. He wasn't just Ron anymore, in fact, he hadn't been since he was eleven. Since then he was Harry Potter's best friend and now he realized he had to succumb to the fact that he always will be. Ron sunk into the low couch, his knees following him, closely making their way to his chin as he plopped on the moth eaten maroon sofa. Frustrated, he extended his legs, and brought his hands up to his face, sighing. While rubbing his blue eyes, footsteps moved closer to him. This he knew of course by the booming floor boards.

"Ron? Is that you?" His hands fell to his lap as he heard her voice.

"Yeah, 'm in here"

"Ron," She said almost pleading.

He could see her shadow moving towards him now, and noticed how big that shadow had grown recently. She stood to the left of him now, in front of the couch. He glanced at her, down and up through the lashes of his almost closed eyes. Her swollen feet, with nails painted a berry red. Something he didn't know she did until he was almost 19. How could he not have known that the bushy haired girl he had known for eight years painted her toenails? It was a very feminine thing to do, and in his defense, very un-Hermione like.

_He remembered the day he saw her feet so well…_

* * *

><p>A summer day at the Burrow. Although the heat was sweltering, they took shelter in Ron's tiny attic room. They seemed so close in there, no space for them to be apart. Although they'd been "together" since the battle, a little over a month in fact, things were still awkward for them…well for Ron at least. Everyone could tell how nervous he was around her. Especially Hermione. When he wanted to kiss her so badly, he never could, especially in front of his family. Although when he wanted to kiss her, everyone knew…his ears would turn red, and his freckles practically jumped off his skin from the heat his face would give off. He would temporarily leave the physical place they were and remember their first kiss. Their only kiss. The fire behind it, the passion, sheer desire and joy. And then he would remember the day that it happened. The day his best friend died. The day the Dark Lord fell. The day his brother died, and the day that he didn't come back. When he would return from these memories, and into reality, grief still lay on the surface of his mind, and then he would no longer want to kiss her. He no longer wanted her, because if he had her, she would be taken away and never come back. For the longest time, Hermione was okay with this. Today she wasn't.<p>

Hermione sat at the edge of Ron's bed, her feet dangling in circles as if swaying to a song. Ron sat on the other end, mirroring her though his feet sat planted on the ground. Hermione was staring at him that he knew, even though his fringe plastered with sweat practically shielded his eyes from all his surroundings.

"I'm glad your Mum told Ginny and Harry to de-gnome the garden, it's just too hot today"

"Mhm"

"I wonder if your mum started making lunch yet…she's quite excited to have my parents over" she giggled to herself, "Although not as excited as your Dad" she giggled again.

"Mhm"

"You know I'm thinking of spending the rest of my summer on holiday with my parents…"

"Mhm" Ron responded once again not listening. "—Wait, you're leaving? But you just got here!" Ron practically shouted.

"Seems I've got your attention now eh, Ronald?" she almost hissed the worlds to him.

She got up and ascended to the window, moving the dingy orange curtain slightly in order to look through the pane. "My parents are here they're talking with your dad, better go and help them" she said in a harsh tone.

"Help them? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well save them from your father's questioning of course"

"There's nothing wrong with my father! What are you insinuating?" he howled as his ears turned scarlet.

"Insinuating? Wow, that's a big word for you Ronald"

Hermione set her shoulders against the wall near the window, her arms were crossed over her chest, and her eyes ablaze in his direction.

Ron leapt to his feet and walked toward her, "You have no right to bad mouth my father like that after all he's done for you…all I've done for you!" he bellowed.

Ron was so close to Hermione she didn't know what to do. She had never seen this side of him before so angry and defensive. Almost as if he was shielding himself from something. His eyes looked like he didn't even know her anymore, and she didn't know this Ron in return. New voices rang throughout the house. Hermione pushed him away, placing both hands on his chest, which was much harder than she remembered. He looked at her, and took her in; the way her hair fell out of its tie, the way her breathing intensified when she was angry, the way the sweat fell so beautifully on her face. And especially her lips, the way they moved when she yelled at him.

She took a deep breath and stepped in closer to him again, and asked:

"Why won't you kiss me Ron?"

For the first time in the month that had passed he had a good laugh. He slid down the wood barren wall and chuckled, thinking of what sat in the drawer of his night stand… the book that George and Fred had given him for his birthday, the book that helped him gain the confidence to go for Hermione any way.

His laugh grew heartier and louder, and she faced him and joined in. As she laughed she kicked him playfully in his side with the tips of her toes and slid down, adjacent to him, laying her feet into his lap. Together they laughed, until his laughter turned to tears shed for his lost brother. At that moment Hermione new why he wouldn't kiss her, why he defended his father so valiantly, and why he was so "Un-Ronnly" quiet lately. She didn't talk, she didn't cry, she just waited until he laughed again. Slight giggles started to form from his mouth, and she pushed her toes into chest. When he noticed he grabbed them, touching them, holding them, just looking. His fingers made it to her toes painted a slight maroon color.

"You paint your toenails maroon?"

"It reminds me of you" she glanced at him to see his reaction

"Let's go save your parents from my dad" he breathed.

* * *

><p>The floors creaked as they made their way down to the center of the burrow, hand and hand.<p>

_Now, his eyes made her way to her face, more plump than that day…Her eyes read a look of full concern and she whispered_

"Ron"

He looked at her again and realized something was wrong.

"Hermione?" he asked

"She's coming"

With all the haste and hurriedness after those two words Ron was moving in so many different directions. He had to tell Hermione's parents, His mum and dad, George, Percy, Bill, Charlie, Ginny, HARRY! The next thing he remembered is sitting next to his wife, loving the way her hair fell out of its tie, the way her breathing intensified as she worked so diligently, the way the sweat of labor coated her face so sweetly, the way her lips touched his as their miracle whined and screamed, the laughter of relief they shared together that day and always. The way she wiggled her swollen toes for the sake of memories…giving off the color of a Rose. Oh, how he loved Rose. And as he looked down at his little baby girl he knew he would give her the world he couldn't have, and that he wasn't just Harry Potter's best friend to her, he was Dad.


	2. II

II.

Jane had always known her daughter was bright, of that she was most utterly certain. Her two year old daughter loved books. She could almost fully read in fact, which was far beyond the average statistical year for a child to be reading. But today, she wanted her to take a break from turning page after page and squealing with delight when she did so, and watch the wedding ceremony of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer. And this would happen no matter how stubborn her little Hermione was.

"Hermione, would you like to carry the popcorn darling?"

"Yes, Mummy" her daughter said through crooked teeth; ones that Jane was most determined to fix.

Hermione sat next to her mother, kicking her legs restlessly against their deep blue sofa.

"Mummy, is this almost over?" Hermione pleaded

Tears ran down Jane's cheeks and more welled up in her eyes. She wiped them away with a crumpled white tissue as she answered her daughter, "Yes, honey…yes—Oh! Isn't it just magical Hermione?"

"There's no such thing as magic"

* * *

><p>Hermione sat once again in the corner of the attic at the Weasley family home. Summer was coming to an end, humid rain began to fall throughout the open air. She sighed and tilted her head back against the wall waiting for Ron. He was in the shed with his father wanting to learn how to fix a muggle telephone. Hermione is usually a patient girl, and she wanted Ron to have time with his father. Both he and Ron were still grieving over Fred, and it wasn't right to deny them the time they needed to heal, and if that time was spent together so be it. Hermione would oblige. Thinking about Fred made her feel so terrible, she could hardly bare it. She slowly stood, making her way downstairs to make herself a pot of tea. When she made her way into the kitchen, she saw Mrs. Weasley at the kettle as usual, though she couldn't help but feel she had walked in on something.<p>

"And you know Freddie dear, you were right about Ron…you always could read your brother so well. I know you were closest with George obviously he's your other half, but I believe Ronald has lost his favorite brother…although he would never admit it to the others, I know you talked with him a lot. I think that's what he misses the most Ron, just talking with you, teaching him how to laugh, I see so much of you in him. Well as much as I hate to admit it, again I'll say you were right about Hermione too. I know he cares for her so deeply. He was talking to you last night you know…in the chair in the den. He waited for you to respond. He was telling you how he thinks Hermione counts his freckles sometimes. Especially at dinner, because she looks at him for so long. I bet you three sickles he's telling your father this right now. He's your replacement. Ron's actually out there helping him with the muggle rubbish mumbling on and on about Hermione, how he'd give her life for her, how he'd give every last ounce of his magic to let her live"

Hermione went back upstairs with tears streaming down her face. When she walked back to her little corner, it's as if Fred whispered in her ear "For someone with so much brains you definitely don't use your ears" his laugh quickly followed.

_Oh, Fred!_ She thought

Then she searched through the piles and piles of boxes stacked high in the corridor closet and found one single solitary extendable ear right within her reach.

She cranked the window open with all her might, lowered the ear and waited for his voice.

"And I was thinking you know since her birthday's right after she leaves for Hogwarts, that I would give her something special…to er, tell her how I feel you know"

"How 'bout a spell book?"

"She's gotta 'bout a hundred 'o those!"

"Perfume?"

"Tried that once," he blushed. I don't think she liked it.

"Well I'm sure you'll think of something Ron, or you can just tell her"

"I've written about sixty different versions on an old Quidditch magazine"

"Have you?"

"Yea" Ron breathed

"Keep it under your pillow?"

"In the night table"

Hermione dashed to the night table, rummaging through Ron's things:

_Hogwarts: A History _

_Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_

Dumbledore's blank chocolate frog card

And there: _Viktor Krum's Fallout _

Hermione's heart began to race. She flipped through the vandalized pictures of Krum searching for a piece of parchment. Feeling utterly stupid for invading his privacy Hermione stuffed everything back into his table, when an envelope fell to her feet.

I love Hermione

I love Hermione

I love Hermione

I love Hermione

I love Hermione

I love Hermione

Hermione is beautiful

I am in love with Hermione Jean Granger

* * *

><p>Hermione read and re-read Ron's scrawly hand writing and laughed so happily, and reflected on her first memory and finally knew what her mother meant. Magic really does exist.<p> 


	3. III

**A/N: Hello! Thank you all for stopping to read, favoriting, and following! I appreciate it! I've always wondered how Fred would've reacted once Ron and Hermione finally got together, so here is my interpretation of Fred's influence on that. Hope you like it!**

George shifted his weight into the door frame and sighed inwardly. It had been almost four months since the battle, but the scars that remained from their ordeal still seemed fresh. The loss of Fred was most apparent. George could barely take in a breath without noting his absence. Grief swelled up in his chest every waking moment. Despite the pain, George did his best to take note of and participate in the little moments Fred would enjoy most. George returned from his mid-afternoon stroll to find his younger brother and Hermione Granger settled into a seemingly intimate, but rarely caught moment.

As he stood, he took in the sight of Hermione sitting on Ron's lap with her legs draped over the side of the tattered barcalounger. Together they sat in the slowly yellowing light of the approaching evening. The pad of Ron's thumb brushed the back of Hermione's head, slightly grasping a frizzy summer-bleached tendril while she read in his lap. Hermione tilted her head back letting out a hearty laugh. "Ronald! Everyone will be back soon." she said, her head now fully resting in Ron's hand.

"We've got some time left." he replied, placing small pecks on the side of her neck.

Hermione's book fell to the floor with a heavy thud as she turned to face him. George jumped back, surprised by the quickness in escalation Hermione took their kissing. Short breaths in between the smacking of their lips became audible as the seconds passed.

George wandered into the kitchen shaking his head while he scratched his stubble. He chuckled to himself and gazed into the refrigerator. He waited a moment before slamming the door shut to get their attention. George pivoted, and took two swift strides back to the den. Ron and Hermione threw themselves away from each other at lightning speed, causing Hermione to slide off the edge of the arm rest and tumble to the floor. Ron looked up, his swollen lips agape before letting several awkward noises like "Um", "Erm" and sighs escape. Hermione squinted and her face scrunched into a pained look of embarrassment.

"Getting in some cardio there guys?" George chuckled, leaning against the woodwork with a smirk. The two lovebirds each turned an unflattering shade of scarlet as several members of the Weasley family came barreling through the door. The chorus of chatter came to an abrupt halt, as their eyes darted between Ron, Hermione, and George. Hermione's feet pointed inward and she adjusted her blouse. "We were just…" she began. If possible, George's face continued to light up with each passing moment. Harry and Ginny gave each other knowing looks, and soon shared the same growing grins as George. "They were just reading" George cracked as he picked up Hermione's forgotten book. Hermione smoothed down her hair and accepted the book from George's hand, pink returning to her cheeks. Ron made is way through the pack of red heads toward the door eager to escape. He thought he'd gotten away unscathed when Fleur muttered something, causing Bill to clap him twice on the back. "Must have been some book." he followed. "It's not all about the wand work eh, Ronnie?" George said, a thin smile spreading across his face. Ron shook his head while walking through the door mumbling a barley audible, "Thanks, Fred"

* * *

><p>Dumbledore's funeral had been a somber way to end his time at Hogwarts. Ron loosened his tie and plopped on his too small bed. As he removed his dress shoes and sighed, two loud pops echoed against the walls.<p>

"FUCKING HELL!" Ron bellowed, clutching his chest.

The two twins standing on either side of him shared a grin. "Ronniekins!" they chimed in unison. "We've come to the conclusion that you need a little bit of a push," Fred said.

"Right now, the only push I'm interested in is a swift one in your arses!" Ron grumbled, still recovering from the fright they'd given him.

"Ah, not so fast baby brother," Fred continued.

Fred and George situated themselves atop the Chudley Cannons quilt, flanking Ron's sides.

"You see Ron" George said, "We think you need to do something about this Hermione situation."

"Her-Hermione situation? What situation is that?" Ron spewed.

"The one where someone else is gonna snatch her up before you do!" George responded.

"What?" asked Ron, turning towards George, blue eyes wide with surprise.

"Now, don't worry baby brother, Georgie and I here, have just what you need." Fred said, patting Ron on the knee. "The way to your girl's heart after all, is through books." he finished.

With that said, the twins set a book with a shiny golden cover in Ron's lap.

"Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches?" Ron read aloud, questioning what he was just given.

"The answer to your prayers" George exclaimed.

"Impressing them not all about the wand work, there Ron. This here has everything you need to know about snagging the ladies." Fred continued.

Ron sighed and glanced back and forth between his brothers. He tried his best to hide is appreciation, but a small smile tugged at the sides of his lips. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Don't mention it, ya little git," George answered.

"Just remember who to thank when you've taken the plunge and we catch you mid-snog." Fred said.

And with a crack the twins were gone, leaving Ron alone with the book he would read for her.


End file.
